


Two Pieces

by josephjonxs



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 06:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17095748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josephjonxs/pseuds/josephjonxs
Summary: Soulmate AU!





	Two Pieces

Race still remembers how his mother woke him up screaming when she saw his arms covered in bruises and cuts. How it took him twenty minutes to calm her down, claiming he didn’t feel them and they couldn’t be his. It took her another ten minutes to explain the concept of soulmate marking to him. How the scratches on someone’s skin also showed up on the skin of their soulmate. Not long after he saw a scar on his dad arm that wasn’t on his mothers.

At this point, Race was used to his arms and legs being covered in bruises. Most of the time he had to poke them to check which was his, and which belonged to his soulmate. He felt sorry for the other person, knowing that if they did not belong to the streets, they must have a terrible home situation. The bruises were easy to identify which belong to who, but the scars that faded over time could belong to either and he would never know for sure.

The problem was, there were a lot of people in New York City who were covered in bruises, especially within the crowd he hung out with. Most newsies did not back down from a fight and when one bruise faded, another one soon took its place. It had taken Race quite some time to figure out what scars he could easily identify on a person. The one on the back of his hand stood out, it was an odd shape, kind of like a snake. He doesn’t recall ever getting it, so it must belong to his soulmate. Because of the dark colour, it was easy to spot and made his search a bit easier. Over the years he trained himself to first look at a person’s hands when he met them. He looked at the hands of every customer he had, every scab he fought. He had even checked the hands of the Delancey’s, silently praying they did not have the scar. To his luck, they did not.

Today, Race was on a special mission. Or that is what he convinced himself when Jack told him to bring a message to Brooklyn. He never had passed over the bridge before, knowing damn well the reputation Brooklyn had. Normally Jack sent out Specs to do these runs. But Specs was sick, and Jack didn’t want to risk him getting sicker for just a run to Brooklyn. So, know Race had gotten the task. At first, he had objected, but in the end, curiosity took over. Curiosity to check what the talk about Brooklyn was all about. He was sure it couldn’t be as bad as the boys whispered about.

Once he crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, he made his way to the docks. Like Jack had explained to him. The docks were already covered in newsies who were done selling for today, and Race did not like the number of eyes focussed on him.

When he was halfway down the docks, a short boy stepped in front of him. He had to be the same age, but at least a head smaller than Race. His arms were crossed and even through the coat Race could tell he had quite some muscles.

“What’cha doin’ here?” His accent was thick.

“Ise looking for Spot,” Race said, keeping his back straightened. Even though the other boy was smaller, it felt like he was towering over Race.

“Well, looks like ya just found ‘im. What’cha want?” Race now took a good look at the boy. His short dark hair was messy, his darker skin stood out against the thick layers of snow on the docks.

“Ise got a message from Jack,” Race pulled the small thin paper out of his pocket, holding it up between his fingers.

“Oh, ya one of Jackie’s boys. Where’s Specs?” Spot seemed to ignore the paper, which made Race annoyed. If he would just grab it, Race could get out of here, away from all the prying eyes.

“Sick. Ise hopes ya don’t want me to read it for ya,” he grunted.

A smirk appeared on the other boy’s lips before he snatched the paper. In a quick glimpse, Race could’ve sworn he saw a scar on the back of the boy’s hand. But before he could double check, the boy had turned his hand in a way that made it impossible to see.

“Ise read it later. Ise send one of ma boys back,” Spot said in a way to dismiss him. When Race did not seem to move fast enough for him, the shorter boy waved his head, like a king dismissing a subject. Race’s heart seemed to fall still for a second, a chill going past his spine. In that movement, the scar was clear to see. A dark, almost snake-like scar on the back of his hand. Identical to Race his scar. The boy froze on the spot, his legs unable to move.

Spot raised an eyebrow, almost looked concerned if the boy was okay. “Ya can go,” he grunted. Race got snapped back to reality and turned around, quickly leaving the docks. He could feel his heart beat hard like it was going out of control. His breathing was getting faster even when he wasn’t running.

Once he reached the lodging house, he blamed his flushed cheeks on the cold. No one could know.


End file.
